


Two lies, One Truth

by BottomlessAbyss



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 07:39:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19146508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BottomlessAbyss/pseuds/BottomlessAbyss
Summary: Lie (lahy)noun1.      a false statement made with deliberate intent to deceive; an intentional untruth; a falsehood.2.      something intended or serving to convey a false impression; imposture3.      an inaccurate or false statement; a falsehood.But hat was the truth?





	Two lies, One Truth

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while I've made a birthday one-shot, so I figured why not? Rated M to be on the safe side.

**Lie**  (lahy)  
_noun_ ****

> 1\.      a false statement made with deliberate intent to deceive; an intentional untruth; a falsehood.
> 
> 2\.      something intended or serving to convey a false impression; imposture
> 
> 3\.      an inaccurate or false statement; a falsehood.
> 
>  

Uruha didn’t visit home much these days. Personal time was a luxury and he didn’t get much of it outside of work. The last time he did, Reita came with him to meet his newly born niece; the only visual witness to know he teared up so bad that wasn’t Ruki, who knew he was too choked up to talk, too caught up in the little fingers wrapped around his fingertip, when he called to ask how things were.

He promised they would come back sooner rather than much later, perhaps even bring along the person he spoke so fondly of at the time. The relationship was going so well, then. They had plans, the kind that could go the distance and soar through the winds of time.

He flew too close to the sun. It was an Icarus whether Ruki told him or not. Luckily, he didn’t. Silence was all he gave him, the comforting offer that the night’s tab would be taken care of and the free space made in his bed if he didn’t want to be home alone appreciated more than Ruki would ever know.

Throwing himself into work was how he mourned and cut his losses, never to touch it again. So much so, it didn’t cross his mind to tell his parents that no, he would  _not_  be bringing over the person he spoke so highly over during his last visit. In all defense, it slipped his mind.

So, imagine the predicament he found himself in when his mother called to ask if she should make extra servings for his birthday dinner.

The sheer  _look_  on Ruki’s face when he asked him to be his boyfriend for a day at the last minute. Just until they left.

Luckily for him, Ruki was a team player. Everyone and their mother just about knew that Ruki didn’t do relationships. Not for a lovely while, if they were being honest, but pretending was a different story. When a friend needed a favor from him, he was there – no questions asked. Not that many questions asked, at least. He’s saved Reita one too many times from unwanted suitors, slipped in at the right time with a well-timed slip of his hand in Uruha’s, interlocking fingers and a staged whisper in his ear in crowded bars when Uruha’s date was a bust and he needed an immediate out. All it took was a call or a text and he was there. It was what he was good at.

What Uruha didn’t expect was how animatedly  _pleased_ his mother was to discover it was Ruki the entire time he ‘hid’ from them, arms shooting up before wrapping around Ruki to pull him in for a hug of his own. Ruki gasped a laugh, looking over her shoulder at Uruha and mirroring the surprise on his countenance. She had even patted his cheek before inviting them inside, and Uruha was shocked to see Ruki’s cheeks had flushed, eyes trained on the floor as he stepped inside first.

Only one of his sisters were able to make the visit over for his birthday, and Uruha’s neck stung at the mention of how everything ‘made sense’ to her.

“You were always all he talked about back in the day,” she said, as if the sky was blue and snow fell in winter and Ruki’s attempt to curve his giggle-snort was the cutest thing in room besides the almost-toddler he held on his hip, humming tunes and twirling about every now and again just to see her smile and shriek with glee. “I’m surprised this didn’t happen sooner. I don’t know why I didn’t see this coming.”

Because there was  _nothing_  to see, Uruha wanted to argue, his tongue finding no comfortable spot in his mouth to rest and his leg bouncing, full of nerves or in need of a cigarette he was trying his best to quit. Ruki’s look over his niece’s head that he held and played with didn’t make matters any better. Uruha shook his head as if to very blatantly say,  _don’t believe her, you and I both know she’s overexaggerating_.

She wasn’t exaggerating. The night Reita introduced him to Ruki was a memory he would never forget, and the way things had hit off for the three of them Uruha would have never imagined had he not experienced it him. There was something about Ruki Uruha liked, then, and whoever paid him any attention to hear him out knew. He liked him enough to leave behind Kanagawa and chase after their dreams, together, no matter where it led them.

Liked him enough to bring him back home as an official boyfriend this time, his family believed.

“Takanori was just telling me about the first time you asked him out.”

Uruha raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, watching in amusement how the muscle in Ruki’s cheek leaped, taken off-guard.

“Is that right?” Uruha folded his arms across his chest. “I sort of remember it a little differently. How did it go again?”

Ruki dismissively waved a hand in the air. “Don’t be cynical. That’s my job.”

Uruha huffed out a soft bought of laughter that matched his sibling’s, leaning a hip against the kitchen counter where he watched the pair move about in assisting to clean dishes from the night’s earlier celebratory dinner. His eyes just couldn’t look away from the myriad of expressions that waged war over Ruki face as they held each other’s gaze.

“Humor me, love. You know you tell it better than I do.”

Uruha’s sister bumped her hip into Ruki’s and smiled conspiratorially at him, missing the fact that Ruki’s eyebrow twitched at the used name of endearment. “Go on. I wouldn’t mind hearing it one more time.”

Ruki heaved in a breath and sighed, eyes narrowing for an instant before he began.

“He’s transparent. Very transparent. I always knew he had a thing for me.”

“Did you, now,” Uruha tried his best not to snort. He failed, miserably. Transparent, his ass.

“I did. You can only hide so many flirtatious looks in such a small space we’ve shared for as long as we have, of course. He’s always been there when I needed him most, as if waiting for me. He knows exactly what I need, when I need it, before I have time to even think of it. But the thing he didn’t know was that I had a thing for him, too. Curiosity more than anything at first, but I never pursued the chance to do anything about it out of fear. Fear that I would ruin us. He knows how much I didn’t do relationships. Not after the ones that fell through pretty bad. I’m not as lucky when it comes to that area,” Ruki’s gaze softened. “But having him in my life makes it more bearable, and I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

For a moment, Uruha’s heart might have fluttered to a stop. His sister smiled, soft and warm in understanding, placing two puzzle pieces together. “You knew you needed to have him.”

Ruki met Uruha’s eyes. After a moment's pause, he slowly nodded. As if he was finally acknowledging a truth gone far too long avoided until then, right now.

“I needed him.”

This was a lie.

Not a stitch of truth in sight.

So why couldn’t Uruha bring himself to look away?

Ruki went on. “When he asked me out it was actually when I dropped by to see how recording for the album was going. I thought it was bold of him, so I said yes. We were already kind of skirting around this… thing we didn’t know what to make of. If I was going to try my hand at a relationship again, it was better to do it with someone that always meets me halfway.”

Not a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. Ruki was always so good with words, how he seamlessly sewed realities together from the depths of his mind using thread that had no business being used from an unknown realm he probably retreated to when left alone to write.

Uruha’s sister sighed dreamily. “I remember when he was quite popular with admirers during high school. When he’d sneak out at night, we thought he was off with his latest girlfriend before he and Akira introduced you to us. And look we’re you’re at, now. It almost feels like fate, doesn’t it?” Ruki’s laughter held an edge of gossip in it and his hand reached out to rest over Uruha’s wrist and squeeze gently at an attempt for open affection, noting the way Uruha’s head lowered to look down at their hands from his peripheral. She must have noticed, too, because she waved a hand at them both as if to shoo them away. “Go on, I’ve kept you long enough. I can handle the rest of the dishes on my own.”

Ruki would have answered, but Uruha was far quicker than he’d ever been. He needed to get out of there.

His footsteps quickly took him past the kitchen with Ruki in tow, his hand still holding onto his arm. His parents were fawning over their granddaughter in the living room where the television buzzed, half-eaten cake on plates forgotten and wine glasses empty.

He walked past it all, white noise in his ears and the weight of Ruki’s words, the soft, almost reverent tone of his voice looping round and round in his head–

He eyed the front door and the staircase.

Instead of impulsively acting on the urge to sit in his car and drive around until he felt clear-headed, he headed up the stairs. Upstairs was just as good. It helped make it easier to breathe and acknowledge the strangely erratic drum of his heart as he stopped in the doorway to his childhood bedroom where he’d put their luggage in. Ruki was silent as he followed, didn’t even so much as tug his hand free. It was most likely so that they could keep up appearances. Uphold the lie and see it to the end.

They parted as he found reason to flip on the lights and pace a tad, pausing at his window to look out into the summer night and run a hand through his hair while Ruki just stood by, watching him.

“Did you mean it?” Uruha asked, turning around to face the vocalist.

Ruki paused from closing the door to give them more privacy in favor of making a face. “Which part?”

Uruha didn’t know. The not-lie? The part that felt more like an exposure of truth than the seamless fabrication of a well-staged story?  The half-truths that made Uruha’s craving for a cigarette multiply tenfold? There wasn’t enough time to pick apart what exactly he wanted further clarification about when he had a few other bones to pick. So, he settled for shaking his head and waving a hand, as if to dispel the inquiry altogether. Another time.

“I don’t know where you get that bit about me looking flirtatiously at you. I’ve never done that.”

“You have. You  _do_ ,” Ruki bit his lower lip around a teasing smile. “More often than not you’re drunk when you do.”

“That doesn’t count,” Despite rolling his eyes, Uruha couldn’t escape the surfacing smile Ruki pulled from him so effortlessly. “Especially with the look you’ve been giving me all night by the time you’ve landed on your third glass.”

“Uh huh.” Unconvinced, even with Uruha crossing over to close the distance he created between them. “Call it what you want, but you don’t get to flip this on me. This isn’t about me.”

“You really want to debate with me on that right now?”

Ruki quirked a brow, taking one step back. Uruha took one step forward, and there was nowhere else to go but press his back against the door and his hands reached out to brace onto Uruha’s arms. Neither of them said a word, eyelashes dipping as eyes mutually traced over the other’s countenance, tiny splotch of freckles and beauty markers a draw that kept them in each other’s orbit like an itch too out of reach to scratch.

“No,” Ruki breathed, barely above a whisper, “I’d rather not be talking at all,” and Uruha swore he could feel it soft on the corner of his mouth. Something warm curled in his’s gut and his lips parted under Ruki’s gaze the stuttered and paused at his lips before flickering up to meet his gaze. Ruki’s hands stroked up his arms, and it made him realize just how close they were. Too close. Close enough he could feel the sun on his face, and it made him forget how to breathe properly. Icarus.

On the next inhale he found himself welcoming the soft press of Ruki’s lips against his. Ruki’s fingers tightened enough to bruise, but Uruha didn’t care. Could hardly focus on it at all, because he started kissing back and the tiny moan Ruki tried to curb was exhilarating. It was slow and soft, sweet, easy innocence despite the heat flushing over his chest and flooding the lining of his stomach. Ruki breathed in and Uruha automatically licked his lips, needing to be let in. And Ruki let him, let himself be liked into so slowly it made his toes curl in a flare of starburst-like pleasure into the carpet and hips cant forward when pressed up against the door by Uruha’s body pinning him. Ruki tasted like cake and wine, and Uruha wanted more.

“Kouyou,” Ruki whispered when their lips separated for a split moment, hushed and melting against him when Uruha’s hands found his waist, in a sigh so pretty it had Uruha wanting to deliberately take his time to undress him like a present; kiss him breathless and dizzy.  Ruki’s hands raised to sink his fingers in Uruha’s hair and Uruha decided then, tilting his head subtly for a deeper kiss and inhaling a touch sharper through his nostrils when his fingers trickled down far enough to take his time feeling for the hem of Ruki shirt and lift up to slip beneath and finger the soft skin of his stomach and sides just above the waistband of his jeans, that maybe he would do just that.


End file.
